Separate Like Stars

by Diana Kane

  “No,” she says as she shakes her head and takes a step away from me. “I want you to be where I am. To trust me again,” she adds. “Besides,” she says as she reaches into her pocket, “I already got us the unlimited rides and games bands,” she finishes as she pulls the yellow bracelets out and grins at me. “Shall we?” she asks as she allows one of the bracelets to dangle from the tips of her fingers.

  “No more nervousness?” I ask as I take the bracelet from her and secure it around my wrist.

  “I wouldn’t go that far,” she chuckles. “But this isn’t our first date. We already know the basics about each other. We also already know that we like one another. And given what happened recently, I think it’s safe to say that the physical connection is still solid. Now we need to relax and see if it’s possible to have something great again.”

  “The million dollar question,” I muse.

  “It’s worth far more than a million dollars. At least to me,” Olivia grins, although her seriousness radiates from her eyes. “I know what we need,” Olivia quickly changes tracks and moves towards the front door. “Come on,” she orders me as I move to catch up, detouring to grab a pair of street shoes from the closet. Olivia impatiently waits at the door as I slip my feet into my shoes and wonder what’s gotten into her all of a sudden. I’ve barely finished tying the laces of the left shoe when I hear the screen door being opened and look up to see Olivia making her way to the car. I make quick work of grabbing some cash from my wallet before following her out the door.

  “Where’s the fire?” I ask as I slip into the passenger seat.

  “Shit, that was so rude of me,” she whispers as her cheeks flare and she smacks her forehead with the palm of her hand.

  “It’s okay. You’ll get bonus points for the flowers and ringing the doorbell instead of blasting the horn to pick me up,” I joke, trying to ease her embarrassment. “So this thing that we need, it’s in the car?”

  “Sorta,” she answers as she presses the start button. “Just a second,” she says as she starts flipping through the satellite radio stations. “Perfect,” she exclaims as the sounds of Cake’s Short Skirt Long Jacket, start coming through the speakers. “Maybe we just need a good sing along,” she suggests before starting to sing along with the song, damn near every note off key.

  “You’re still crazy,” I inform her before I start laughing. Her response is to act like she’s singing the song at a concert, holding an imaginary microphone in my direction to coax me into singing with her. Naturally, I immediately join her, because when someone holds that damn invisible microphone out to you, you must.

  “Well, now we know for sure that neither of us has improved our singing voices,” Olivia observes when the song ends, earning another laugh from me.

  “Pretty sure that ship passed both of us by,” I answer as she puts the car in drive and begins the trip into town. The next grunge classic starts as she pulls out of the driveway. I know we’ll both start singing along when the lyrics start, just as we always did in high school.

  “Still nervous?” she asks as she parks in the du Pays parking lot and shuts the car off.

  “Nope. You?” I ask as I smile broadly at her. It’s true. There’s something about making a fool of yourself with the person you’re interested in dating that somehow calms the system.

  “Minimally,” she confesses. “Let’s go play our favorite carnival game,” she says as she opens her door and exits the car. She waits for me to catch up with her and we turn down Main Street, heading in the direction of the park.

  “We’re gonna play that game?” I ask, just to be sure I heard her correctly.

  “Yep.”

  “You have yet to win that game,” I remind her as her knuckles brush against the back of my hand.

  “There’s a first time for everything,” she answers as the first whiff of the fried carnival delicacies hits me. “The real question is do you want to get something to eat or drink first?”

  Half an hour later we find ourselves seated at one of the picnic tables near the swing carousel ride, Olivia working on her blue raspberry snow cone as I sip my lemonade. My eyes scan the line, searching for its next victim as the time winds down on the current turn.

  “Wanna bite?” Olivia asks as I pick my entrant.

  “Sure,” I answer as I lean into the offered treat and scrape some of the ice from the top. I offer her the straw to my lemonade, her alluring scent tickling my nose as she takes a sip and I ensure that I’ve locked in my pick. “I’m gonna take the kid in the lime green shirt,” I answer.

  “Nope. It’s gonna be the guy with the beer gut wearing his cap backwards.”

  “You sure?”

  “Positive,” she answers as the ride stops, and the quick changeover begins. We watch in anticipatory silence as the ride starts up again, each of us wondering if our entrant will win us the bet.

  “We putting anything on the line?”

  “Loser buys the next round at the concession stand?” she suggests.

  “Deal,” I answer, extending my hand to shake hers, but keeping my eyes glued to the ride. Sure enough, not even a full minute in the alarmed sound of disgusted screams radiates from the ride. We both lean forward a bit, waiting for the ride to stop so we can see if we were right.

  “How?” Olivia asks when the kid in the lime green shirt wobbles off the ride and gets sick again in the nearest trashcan.

  “Just played the odds. He’s just tall enough to be allowed on the ride, so he has no idea what he’s in for. Not to mention he probably binged on a ton of candy and fried food,” I add with a shrug. “Your guy has likely been around a few times and knows what he can handle. The likelihood that it was going to be him is exceedingly low.” I explained this to Olivia countless times on our trips to Navy Pier in Chicago. The lesson never stuck though. “Double or nothing,” I sportingly offer.

  “No way. I’m not a fool. Plus, I kinda feel like a semi-disturbed person right now, making bets on this. I don’t ever remember feeling like that when we were in Chicago.”

  “It does seem a touch morbid now,” I admit with a laugh.

  “Should we find a legitimate game to bet on? Or we could ride the swings,” she suggests, her voice slowly trailing off on swings; like she’s capable of convincing me it’s a good idea.

  “If we ride the swings you’re sitting behind me, and I’m betting on me,” I inform her, knowing full well she remembers that I get motion sick. “We should find a game after you finish your snow cone,” I suggest to a clearly distracted Olivia.

  “What’s your mom doing here?” Olivia asks as she peers over my shoulder.

  “My mom? She should be at home,” I answer as I turn to discover mom and Scott walking towards us. “What the hell?” I ask as I turn back to Olivia.

  “Does she know we’re on a date?”

  “I didn’t tell her. Did you?”

  “No. She’s spotted us though. How do you want to play it?”

  “I don’t know! How do you want to play it?” I whisper-shout back to her, knowing time is running out.

  “Keep it to ourselves until we know what we’re doing?” she quietly asks as her eyes follow their progress. “Dana! Scott! What are you guys doing here?” she greets them as I nod my agreement with her plan to keep quiet.

  “Getting out of the house and going for a walk,” mom answers as she hugs Olivia hello. I greet Scott with a quick hug before turning to embrace my mom, still feeling like it’s a bit too soon for her to be in such a crowded space. “Don’t start worrying about me,” she chastises both of us. “I feel great, and my nurse said it’d be fine if we came down here for a bit. I’m not eating any of the food, just getting some air and avoiding going stir crazy for a little while longer.”

  “Please be careful,” I request as mom looks back and forth between Olivia and me.

  “I must admit, I’m a bit surprised to see the two of you here, together.” Olivia and I quickly glance at one another, both of u
s trying to gauge who is going to answer.

  “We’re just binging on junk food and getting ready to bet on a few games,” I answer, making every attempt to be convincing.

  “Mmhm,” she answers, her eyes once again bouncing between us. Well, so much for trying to keep our date on the down-low. “Come on Scott. I don’t think they’re looking for a third and fourth wheel tonight,” she observes as she rests a hand on each of our shoulders. “Call me tomorrow, when you have a minute,” she says as she begins to walk away.

  “Which one of us?” Olivia calls after her.

  “Both of you,” she answers as she takes Scott’s hand and they meander away from us.

  “You still can’t lie to her to save your life,” Olivia says as she shakes her head.

  “Which is why you should have answered her,” I fire back.

  “She would have seen through me just as quickly,” she admits with a chuckle. “You ready?” she asks as she shows me her empty cardboard cone.

  *****

  “So,” Olivia begins as we stand on my front porch as it approaches midnight.

  “So,” I parrot as Olivia stuffs her hands into her back pockets. “I had a good time tonight.”

  “I did too,” she answers as she nervously twists ever so slightly at the waist.

  “Would you like to come in?” I ask, nearly finishing the question with for a drink out of habit.

  “I shouldn’t,” she answers, surprising me. “Any chance you’d like to go on another date?” she asks as she watches a moth flutter around the porch light. I almost laugh when I spot Artemis and Apollo watching the same moth, albeit with far more interest.

  “I’d like that,” I answer, Olivia catching the smirk on my face and following my gaze to the window.

  “Good,” she whispers as she pulls her hands from her pockets and cups my face. My heart thunders as she slowly leans in, but the sensation is short-lived when she only presses her lips to my forehead. “Tu me manques,” she whispers, her plush flesh moving ever so slightly with each syllable that passes between her lips. She smiles at me as she takes a step back. I swear I see the desire in her eyes, but her hands fall away as she turns to make her way back down the porch steps. “Goodnight, Jordan.”

  “Goodnight, Liv,” I manage through my confusion.

  Fifteen minutes later the confusion still clouds my thoughts. Did I do something wrong? I don’t think I did, I mean she asked me on another date. Five minutes later, after finally tiring out the cats, I grab my phone and quickly type out the question, hitting send before I can change my mind.

  Are you asking because I didn’t kiss you or because I declined your invitation inside?

  Both?

  Both decisions stemmed from the fact that I know what I want out of this. I want you to be sure before things get too serious. Believe me when I say that I absolutely wanted to kiss you, and I definitely wanted to come inside.

  Okay.

  Thoughts on possibly spending a day together for our next date?

  Just tell me when. I’ll be all yours. I hit send on the reply before I have a chance to erase the flirty comment.

  God, I hope so, she immediately replies, causing a massive smile to blossom along my lips.

  Chapter 32

  “Now that you’ve had your fill of staring at my ass, what’s your plan for our day?” Olivia smiles like the cat who got the cream while driving us into the city. I couldn’t figure out why she insisted on placing her mat behind mine at yoga this morning until we got into the Cat-Cow pose and I spotted the telltale grin on her lips.

  “And what a fine ass it is,” she answers as she wiggles her eyebrows up and down. “I was thinking we could start with something a little serious, like the art museum, then we could do something a little more fun, like spending some time at The Zone. The only thing set in stone is dinner,” she adds with a mischievous grin. “If you want to do something different we could try getting into one of those painting or clay classes or pretend to be tourists or something.”

  “I like the plan so far. What are we doing for dinner?”

  “It’s a secret,” she says before squishing her lips together.

  “Fair enough. Let’s start at the museum and take it from there,” I say while giggling at her tight-lipped expression. She turns and glances at me, her aviators covering her eyes, but her smile exuding her affection for me.

  “Have I mentioned how much I love your willingness to just roll with life and see where it takes you?” she asks as she reaches over and takes my hand.

  “No, but we always operated that way. I take it you dated someone who wasn’t as relaxed?” I inquire, unsure if I want to hear about Olivia’s dating history. I’m well aware that she knows mine, or at least some semblance of mine from the tabloids, yet I’m unsure if I want to learn about hers.

  “Brielle was a planner,” she shares as her thumb strokes over the back of my hand, sending little ripples of pleasure through me. “It’s easy to adapt to dating a planner when you’re willing to roll with whatever, but I like a little bit of adventure, you know?”

  “I do,” I share knowing that my ex-girlfriend Janet was such a stringent planner that it was ultimately our undoing. “Have any worst date stories?”

  “Hmm,” she murmurs while thinking. “When I was touring with Veronique, this woman in Germany asked me out. She was attractive and all, but halfway into the date she pulls out her phone, shows me a picture of her, and I quote, soon to be ex-girlfriend and starts sharing way too many details from their text messages to their sex life,” Olivia reminisces before starting to laugh.

  “That’s awful,” I observe through my gale of laughter.

  “It was,” Olivia chuckles. “What about you? I’m sure you have a story or two.”

  “Well, there was the woman who asked me out on what I thought was a date. So I met her at the restaurant, we exchanged some small talk for a bit, then she went on this massive sales pitch. It turns out she was trying to get me to join her pyramid thingy.”

  “Ugh. So she wanted to use your notoriety to advance her sales?”

  “I think so. I wanted to leave so badly, but we had already ordered our meals. I don’t think I’ve ever inhaled a steak that quickly. I was in such a hurry I forgot to put the sour cream on my potato. I didn’t even realize it until she asked if she could have it,” I admit with a laugh.

  “Damn. You usually have a little potato with your sour cream. You must have wanted out of there,” Olivia chuckles.

  “Oh, I did. That’s not even the worst story though.”

  “You have another one?” Olivia asks as she squeezes my hand ever so slightly.

  “Yeah,” I admit as my cheeks flush. “I haven’t told anyone other than Kira this story, and she laughed so hard her wine shot out her nose.”

  “Should I pull the car over?” Olivia jokingly asks.

  “No, but just be mindful.”

  “All right. Hit me,” she says with an expectant grin on her lips.

  “I was consulting on the adaptation of Dissonance when one of the producers introduced me to his sister at a dinner party. We hit it off, and she asked me out. So we go to dinner a few nights later, and things are going exceptionally well. The conversation was flowing. We were laughing quite a bit. Everything seemed fine. We’re in the middle of splitting a crème brûlée when she asks if I think I could be her mommy. I nearly choked—.”

  “Wait, you mean like diapers and bottles, role-playing mommy?”

  “Yes! I mean—,” I try to continue, but Olivia begins laughing so hard that there is no way she’ll hear a word I say. Hell, I can’t even hear the radio over her roaring laughter.

  “Okay,” she finally gasps when she calms down a little. “Please continue,” she says before she starts chuckling again.

  “Well, it took me at least a minute for my mind to catch up to what she was getting at. I mean, to each their own. If it’s happening between consent adults, then I’m fine with it. I w
as just so shocked that she just put it out there like that.”

  “At least she didn’t wait until you had already started investing in the relationship,” Olivia observes.

  “That’s true. I kinda got the impression that she might have approached it that way in the past and it didn’t work out very well. I acknowledged her willingness to be open and upfront about it, but told her that it wasn’t something I would be able to give her.”

  “So you didn’t give it a go?”

  “No,” I admit with a giggle. “I mean can you even picture it? I’ve done some light bondage and a bit of role-playing before, but I don’t see the mommy-daughter role play turning me on.”